


trains and games

by bukkunkun



Series: Make It Worse [3]
Category: Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Genuinely Terrible, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, Illusions, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Inappropriate Use of EDITH, M/M, Mind Rape, Mysterio is His Own Warning, Nightmare Fuel, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Suicide Attempt, Twisted, Unhealthy Relationships, but not really, for the first time ever, ish? depends on how you see it, no beta we die like men, oh boy this is Not Good pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 11:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20081176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: Peter has to catch up to Fury and Maria in Berlin.He meets someone he never thought he would ever see again. And then some.(It's A Proper Series Now, I Guess, Whatever)





	trains and games

**Author's Note:**

> > me: plans a series called make it worse  
fic: makes the mysterio illusion scene worse  
me, with a baby’s object permanence: [pic.twitter.com/pb9e41YtS5](https://t.co/pb9e41YtS5)
>> 
>> — 🔮 bukkun, MSc 🌟 Spider-Man PS4 🕷 (@trickscd) [August 2, 2019](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/1157138509041246210?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> it's confirmed, i'm actually a garbage human being. genuinely, i am terrible. on the other hand, sometimes you don't need porn to make things fucky, you feel? whatever.
> 
> thank you for the 11k+ hits on wine and crime, by the way!! Thank you everyone for the support. (*´꒳`*)
> 
> also, someone gave me a heads up last time to make this a series and i went 'ehhhhhhh' because i didn't really give a shit about organising this properly but then i thought of a "funny" title for it so here it is i guess. named properly n whatnot. thanks ao3 user nyxelestia

Berlin—Fury said they would be in Berlin. God, Peter hoped he made it. 

After the woman ran away from him screaming about Night Monkey, though, he wasn’t too sure about his chances. Peter choked back a sob as he watched her leave, trying hard not to panic, not to cry as the thought of last night on top of the Eurostar line came back to mind. 

He _ had _to stop Beck. If not for the world’s sake, then for his sake. For his sanity’s sake. 

God, just what in the hell was in that bottle? That lemonade Beck served him in the pub? Why was he—_like this, _so desperate for daddy, oh, he missed him so much—

“_Stop!_” Peter hissed, shaking his head wildly. “I need to _ focus. _ I need to _ think!_” He grasped at his temples, panting heavily as he whirled around, almost lost, when his spine tingled violently—

** _STAND ASIDE!_ **

Peter jerked to the side just in time for a car to screech to a halt beside him, and his heart shot up to his throat. The window rolled down, and he let out a sob of relief when he saw Nick Fury looking up at him, a stern expression on his face. 

“Get in, Parker,” he barked, and Peter nodded, jumping into the front seat next to Fury as the man drove away. He yanked his mask off, wiping at his eyes and sniffling as the man stared dead ahead at the road, uncaring for his tears, and for once, Peter didn’t care if he didn’t give a damn. “You’ve got a _ lot _ of explaining to do.”

“Y-yes, sir, I-I know, sir, I’m—I-I’m so sorry.” Peter stammered, wincing as he remembered so long ago, on top of a building with the sunset on his back as he tried not to cry in front of Tony Stark. 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Fury said, and Peter sniffled. He did peer at Peter, though, and the teen took a moment to blink at him confusedly before Fury pointedly looked at his seat belt. Peter blushed, and scrambled to pull it on, but all he managed was to yank it clean off, looking at Fury in embarrassment and alarm.

The man rolled his eyes, and looked ahead, before flooring the acceleration.

* * *

“Talk.” Fury said, crossing his arms as Maria came up to stand next to him. Peter nodded, and pulled out the projector he had webbed to his back, dropping it down to the table. 

“Beck is a fraud,” he said, “He’s been making up all the Elementals using some kind of holotech, something like EDITH, AR technology using projectors on drones, I dunno exactly what kind of tech, but something like—”

“Oh, like BARF, but better?” A familiar voice asked, and Peter’s blood _ froze _ in his veins. His eyes widened as his heart lodged itself in his throat, and his head shot up to see Tony Stark himself stride into the room, looking a little worse for wear, but so undeniably _ him. _ Peter could feel the corners of his eyes sting with tears as Tony strode into the room, Maria’s cool expression crumbling into alarm as Fury just looked at him disinterestedly. 

“I—I don’t—what—” Peter tore his mask off, biting his lip as he blinked at Tony in disbelief, in _ wonder. _

Tony was in a hospital gown, of all things. He toted around behind him an IV stand, and he had his arm in a sling. There was a shiner on his temple and his right eye was behind a medical eyepatch, but there was no denying it—

Tony Stark himself stood right in front of Peter’s eyes, and it took everything he had to keep himself from simply throwing himself into the man’s arms, to completely lose control of all his emotions and burst into tears. 

Tony picked up the projector with his good hand, humming thoughtfully as he looked it over, before nodding. 

“Yep. That’s BARF, alright. So you _ are _dealing with Quentin Beck. Always knew that theatre kid had it in him.” 

Peter let out a tiny sob, and Tony looked back at him with an apologetic little grin.

“Hey, kid.” He said softly, and Fury shook his head.

“Stark.” The one-eyed man said sternly, and Tony turned to look at him, looking almost sheepish. “What’ve we told you about not leaving your room?”

“I was going _ crazy _in there, Fury, I had to get out, walk around…” he looked at Peter, who flinched as their eyes met. “Say hello to someone I missed a whole lot.”

“I missed you too.” Peter said weakly, and Tony’s smile on him was soft—so _ painfully _soft, and it felt like a knife was rammed into Peter’s throat, an ache so overwhelmingly painful, so wonderfully sweet. 

Tony couldn’t keep being aloof forever either, it seemed, as he spread his good arm at Peter, also looking like he was just barely holding back tears. 

“C’mon, Pete. Meet me halfway here.” He said, his voice wavering slightly as he spoke, and Peter finally _ broke, _ letting out a pitiful sob as he hurried forward to hug Tony tightly, crying into his clothes as he clung onto the man. He could feel Tony bury his nose into his hair, breathing deeply as he held Peter close, and Peter snuggled closer to him. 

“This is real.” Peter breathed. “You’re… _ you’re real._”

“Course I am, kid.” Tony replied. “See? Not made of light. You can hug me just fine.”

Gently Tony pulled Peter off him to look into the boy’s face, tutting softly. “Look at you. God, you look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

“I…” Peter hesitated, and jerked away. “Mr. Stark, I’m so—I’m so sorry, I—I gave her away—”

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay.” Tony said soothingly, gently pulling Peter back closer to himself, and he hugged him again, rubbing his back comfortingly. “C’mon. Try again. I promise, I won’t get mad at you.”

“I—I gave EDITH to Mr. Beck.” Peter said weakly, and Tony’s hand stopped on his back. The teen flinched, but the man went right back to stroking him reassuringly. 

“It’s okay, we’ll just get her back.”

“I… I did so much more than that, Mr. Stark.” Peter sobbed, clinging to him desperately. “He—Mr. Beck, he broke me.”

“Broke you?” Tony echoed, and Peter couldn’t take his mind off how _ nice _it felt to be in his arms again. Oh, he’d missed this. Ever since the battle at Avengers Compound against Thanos, Peter had missed this. 

“He-he drugged me when we first met. Ned told me about it when we were in Prague, and now I—Mr. Stark,_ I let him._”

“You didn’t know any better, Pete.” Tony murmured. 

“I just—I missed you so much. I was so desperate, I—I let him—” Peter bit back a sob. “Mr. Stark, I’m ruined. I’m used goods now, I…”

“Peter, you’re not making any sense.” Tony said sternly, pulling away to cup Peter’s face in his hand, looking absolutely _ heartbroken _at the sight of Peter’s tearstained face. “Oh, kid…” he sighed, thumbing Peter’s tears away, but the teen kept crying. 

“He raped me, Mr. Stark.” Peter said quietly, and Tony’s good eye widened. “Over and over again. And I let him.”

“Damn.” Fury hissed, and Tony whirled around to glower at him, pulling Peter close to his chest, and the teen cuddled close to him, feeling a bittersweet ache rising in his chest as he listened to Tony’s heartbeat. It was rising in anger, he realised, and for the first time in days, Peter finally—_finally—_felt safe. “I don’t mean it like _ that, _Stark. I left Beck and Parker alone because the fuck if I give a shit about their personal relationships—I don’t care who Parker’s fucking.”

“Jesus, Fury, he's just a kid.” Tony hissed at him. “A kid who was being _ raped._”

“I let him, Mr. Stark.” Peter said quietly, and Tony turned back to look at him in shock. “He’s been feeding me this drug—it’s green, can be vapour or liquid, that’s probably hallucinogenic. It’s fooled Mr. Fury and Miss Hill as vapour, and I’d been _ drinking _it.”

“Holy fuck.” Tony breathed, and Maria appeared by Peter’s side, holding up a device that looked like a syringe mounted on a gun. “The _ hell _is that, Agent?”

“We need to know if it’s still in Peter’s bloodstream.” She said sternly, holding her hand out at Peter gently. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Give me your hand.”

Peter nodded gingerly, holding out his hand for her to take, and she pricked his finger with the device, making him wince slightly as she drew blood. She got up, frowning down at the display as the device beeped, and her eyes widened when it stopped. 

“It’s… biological. It’s made with some kind of pheromone we’ve never seen before.”

“But you _ can _see it, can you?” Tony asked, and she nodded numbly. “Give it here. I’ll make something to counteract it.”

Peter looked up at Tony as the man took the device from her, and then smiled at Peter gently. “Sorry, kid, I’m gonna have to let you go for a sec, okay?”

“Please, Mr. Stark, don’t go.” Peter mumbled, clinging to him tighter, and the man sighed, laughing fondly. “I promise I'll—I’ll be good.”

“Geez…” Tony shook his head, but patted Peter’s back. “Agent, could you give me a tablet? I’ll work remotely on the antidote here and you can have your guys make it in the lab downstairs.”

Fury handed him a tablet, and Maria strode off away from the room with a huff. Fury gave the two of them one last stern look, and strode away, too. Peter finally let out an exhausted sigh, falling lax in Tony’s arms as the man settled down on the ground with a fond huff, and they fell silent for a long moment, Peter content with dozing off slightly as Tony tapped away at his tablet that rested on Peter’s back. 

“Hey, kid?” Tony asked, after a while, and Peter hummed sleepily on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for asking this of you, but what has he done to you?”

Peter’s expression crumbled, and he squeezed Tony a little bit tighter. 

“I know it’s hard,” Tony said, “But I want to know what sins he’s paying for when I blast that bastard’s head off his shoulders.”

Peter felt a rush of alarm flood his heart—Tony had never talked like that around him before, and it was terrifying. 

But he was talking about Beck, and by _ god _Peter had never felt happier. 

“When did it start, how did he do it?”

“It… it started when we first met at Venice.” Peter said into his shoulder. “At the time, I was still—I was still mourning you, and he staged an attack in Venice while my class was there on a school trip. Fury called us in and we… hit it off right away.” 

Peter sniffled. 

“At the time, I thought he was legit. That he had it all under control, so I tried to run away from it all, because I—I’m not a hero. I’m not like you, or Cap, or Thor, I—I got _ blipped, _for chrissakes, I’m not—”

“Hey, shh.” Tony said soothingly, rubbing Peter’s back. “I made you an Avenger for a reason, Pete. Don’t downplay yourself.”

“I just—” Peter sobbed. “I just wanted a summer vacation. I wanted to get away from mourning you.”

Tony fell quiet, holding him close as Peter dissolved into sobs, and when he calmed down, Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple. 

“I understand, kid.” He murmured. “Go on.”

“He… he was just so friendly and kind, I…” Peter flushed. “I hate to admit this, but Mr. Beck’s exactly my type of guy, he—he’s so smart and funny, and he’s really handsome and so sweet, but…”

Peter squeezed Tony. “But he’s horrible. He’s a terrible man.”

“Sometimes that’s part of the appeal.” Tony murmured, and Peter laughed bitterly. 

“You’re kinda right, Mr. Stark.” He replied. “I asked him to help me get over you, and he… he drugged me and we had sex.”

Tony held Peter a little tighter. 

“At the time, I couldn’t say no—like, not physically, I just begged him for more, even when my mind was saying no.” Peter said. “And then I just couldn’t stop after that. I could never say no to him.”

“Date rape drug…?” Tony murmured. 

“I don’t think so.” Peter replied. “It’s more like a… a mind controlling drug? After that night I couldn’t stop thinking about him, I—I just. _ Couldn’t. _ I’d get so hot thinking about him while on the trip, and when we went to Prague, he staged another attack and then—and then we had sex again after that.” Peter shuddered. “In a _ bar._”

“What, like the bathroom stalls, or—”

“In front of _ everyone, _ Mr. Stark.” Peter sniffled. “We had sex in front of everyone in the bar and we went on like nothing happened.” Tony stroked his back reassuringly, and the teen began to cry anew. “I was so _ scared, _ it was the most intense thing I’ve ever done—it was terrifying to do that but I never once asked him to stop. I felt like I was losing control of my body, my mind. All I felt was that he was right and that I’d do anything he asked me to do, and I _ did._”

“You gave him EDITH.”

“_I gave him EDITH._” Peter sobbed. “Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry. I was weak, and I—”

“Hey.” Tony pulled away from him, looking into his face as he cupped it in his hand. “You’re a victim. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it _ is! _” Peter hiccuped, “Mr. Stark, if I just looked at him more critically, I—”

“I don’t expect anyone to act rationally when they’re in mourning.” He said softly, stroking Peter’s cheek with his thumb, and the teen’s lip quivered. “How’d you find out the rest of Beck’s bullshit?”

“I—I have this girl I like, her name’s MJ.” Peter replied. “Ned knows too, and I guess he told his girlfriend Betty? I dunno.” The teen shuddered. “Anyway. MJ found the projector I brought here. We figured it out from there.”

“I see.” Tony said quietly, and Peter jumped when Maria strode into the room, holding a paper cup of liquid. Peter looked at her fearfully as he clung onto Tony desperately again as the man looked at her, and she gave Peter a kind little smile. 

“Here. Stark’s antidote.” She said, and Peter gingerly took the paper cup from her, looking down at the green liquid in it. “Sorry if it’s weird that it’s in a paper cup, we didn’t really have mugs or anything around.”

“I-it’s okay.” Peter said, and looked at Tony. 

(Something doesn’t feel right.)

“Go ahead, kid.” Tony gave him a little grin. “Bottoms up.”

Peter gave him an uneasy smile, and downed the drink. Tony gave him a wider smile as Peter put the empty cup down on the table, feeling a little faint, and the man pulled him close against his chest again, where he could hear Tony’s heartbeat. 

It was soothing, and Peter could feel his eyes start to slip closed—

Wait a minute. 

If Peter could hear Tony’s heartbeat, then where was the arc reactor?

Only then did he realise, as his spine-tingling sensation faded away, that it had been screaming at him since the moment he arrived at Berlin. 

** _YOU’RE IN DANGER! RUN!_ **

Peter jolted, jerking away from Tony as his world began to go off-kilter. His head spun as he shot to his feet to the sound of echoing laughter, and his heart lodged itself in his throat as Tony stood up, grinning at him wickedly, and his eyes welled up with tears. Rainbows scattered in his vision as the light around him faded away in a sickening wipe of white to black, and suddenly they weren’t in a sterile white SHIELD-run office, and instead they were in a construction site. 

Suddenly Tony wasn’t the person Peter wanted to see the most—as the visage of Tony Stark faded away to give way to a smirking Quentin Beck, looming over him as Peter tripped over his feet, dropping to the ground with a shout. 

“Hello, Peter.” Beck grinned down at him, as Peter shuffled back, panting rapidly as he scuttled up onto the walls, the ceiling—

“Stay away!” He screamed, and Beck laughed darkly as the world plunged into darkness. Peter’s eyes widened, and his spine tingled again—

** _GET OFF!_ **

He jumped down from the ceiling as it suddenly collapsed, and when he straightened up, he found himself in a long corridor, the ground covered in green mist as Mysterio ominously stood at the end of it, illuminated by a flickering bulb above his head. Peter panicked, about-facing to run the other way only to see Mysterio standing there again, laughing darkly, and he backflipped away, running down a now-mercifully empty corridor. 

“Look at you.” Beck’s voice echoed like a chamber around him. “Sweet, vulnerable, _ gullible _little Peter Parker. I almost can't believe that you gave me _everything._”

“Get away from me!” Peter sobbed, and his world tilted sharply to the right, fearing a scream from his throat as he was yanked unceremoniously to the front of a brightly-lit building, and horror dawned on him as he looked up at it. 

It was the same building where Uncle Ben died. 

“How did—how could you have—” 

Peter’s words were cut off with a scream as he was knocked back suddenly, away from the building, and he crashed through a wall like a ton of bricks, pain blossoming in his shoulders as he flew back past broken shards and stringy, dewdrop-beaded webs. 

“The look on your face when I met you as Tony Stark—_delicious. _ So _ desperate _ and heartbroken. Oh, you should have seen yourself.”

Peter slammed onto the ground with a shout. He quickly got up onto his feet, panting heavily as he turned around to see more darkness around him. God, where was he? Panic rose in his chest, thick and burning like bile. His senses were on overload, he couldn’t feel for the way his spine tingled, oh _ god oh god oh god— _

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” He said, breaths panicked and rapid past his lips as he practically hyperventilated, and he jumped at the sound of Beck’s laughter as he felt a hand grab his wrist. He screamed, and made a move to pull away, but his body disobeyed him. The heady scent of that godforsaken hallucinogenic gas cloyed his senses, and all he did was lean into the touch, gasping softly as Beck pressed himself against Peter’s back, holding him gently like a fragile, precious treasure. 

“I don’t think you know what is real.” Beck whispered into his ear, and Peter shuddered, leaning further into Beck’s hold as the man wrapped an arm around his midsection. “Baby boy, how I’ve missed you.”

“Daddy—_no!_” Peter struggled against the fog in his mind as he broke away from Beck’s hold, and the man laughed darkly as he pushed Peter forward, sending him careening down, down, down—

_ “You wanna wake up?” _

Peter slammed against a car, and he rolled off it, wincing when he realised he was back at the construction site. His eyes widened, and he made a break for it—when suddenly the world turned dark again, and shard after shard of glass dropped into the earth around him, trapping him in place. He whirled around, watching his reflection multiply by the hundreds before his eyes, his own haunted, terrified eyes looking back at him as he came to a stop, looking at himself in horror. 

_ “Look at you. You’re so terrified, my sweet little puppy.” _

Peter gingerly reached out at himself, his hand shaking as his own reflection did the same. 

_ “Do you want to face this reality? This reality where no one loves you?” _

“I don’t—” Peter began, when his reflection warped into MJ’s frowning face at him. His heart shot to his throat as he watched her shake her head, turning to walk away. “No! MJ, please—”

“God, Peter.” Ned’s voice, this time, and Peter whirled around to find him looking at him with disappointment on his face. “We were all counting on you.”

“Ned, I—you don’t understand, it’s not—”

“You’re right, Peter. Guess you really aren’t a hero.” Ned said, turning away, and Peter shook his head, rushing towards Ned. 

“Ned, please, no, please—I—it’s not—Ned, _ please!_”

“Jesus, kid.” Tony’s chuckle made Peter’s heart completely stop, and the teen froze, almost unwilling to turn around. “Look at you. God, what a crybaby.”

“Mr. Stark.” Peter breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. “N-no, no, no, this isn’t—this isn’t real, this isn’t—”

“_Look at me when I’m talking, _Spider-Man.” Tony snarled, and a hand grabbed Peter’s chin, forcing him to turn around as his eyes flew open, and he felt Tony’s gauntleted hand wrap around his throat. His sob caught in the tightness around his neck as he looked up at Tony teary-eyed, shaking his head weakly as the man glowered down at him. “I made you an Avenger, Peter. You were supposed to be better than me.” He spat, and threw Peter down to the ground. 

“I believed in you, but I guess I made a mistake, didn’t I?” Tony leered, as blood pooled at his chest and trickled down from his mouth. Peter gaped at him as he fell to his knees, laughing tiredly as he fell on top of Peter, smearing him with his blood. “You were never good enough, Peter, and now because of you, I’m dead.”

“No—_no—_”

“_You_ killed me, Spider-Man!” Tony screamed at him, gripping his arms and shaking him violently as Peter’s sobs grew uncontrollable. “It’s _ your _fault I’m dead!”

“No, I—there was nothing I could’ve done—I _ know _ that, Mrs. Stark, she said—”

“No.” Tony snarled, his face coming close to Peter’s as it began to rot right before his eyes, and the boy’s scream caught in his throat as black spiders crawled out of Tony’s gaping maw. “If you’d been better, Peter—”

“Then Tony might still be alive.” Beck continued, voice again a haunting echo, reverberating under the glass walls of a snow globe, and Peter screamed as Tony’s rotting corpse dropped on him.

_ “Deep down, you know I’m right.” _

“Please—please, make it stop, please—” Peter sobbed, burying his face in his hands as he continued to hear the sound of Tony’s tormented shouting—

Until the screams suddenly stopped, and a pair of gentle hands picked him up, holding him delicately again as Peter gingerly pulled his hands away from his face. 

Mysterio’s misty crystal ball helmet looked down at him, and Peter’s breath caught in his throat. 

“I created Mysterio to give the world someone to believe in. This is the truth, Peter.” He said softly, and the helmet pulled away to let Peter see Beck’s smiling face. His eyes were so gentle and loving, and Peter bit back a sob as Beck gently knelt down, brushing the back of his fingers over Peter’s cheek. “And you are my world, Peter. Believe in me. I am your truth.”

“Mysterio,” He panted, and Beck nodded. 

“Mysterio _ is _the truth.” He said, and kissed him. 

And oh, it was easy. So, so easy to let all his reservations go. Every instinct screaming at him to pull away, to fight, to remember that the man kissing him was a horrible, horrible man with the power to murder any and all who would get in his way. 

“No one else loves you but me, baby.” Beck murmured as they parted for air, grinning as he felt Peter’s hands crawl up his chest to press over his heart. “Come with daddy, I’ll love you forever.”

“Yes, daddy.” Peter replied breathlessly against Beck’s lips, and he could feel the man smile against his skin, smiling back dopily as Beck gently picked him up in a bridal carry. Peter wrapped his arms around the back of Beck’s neck. “Please, make it all go away. It hurts.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Beck chuckled, rubbing his nose against Peter’s temple tenderly, and the teen giggled. The illusion dropped around them as he straightened up properly. “I’ll take you home and collar you up so you don’t get ever get lost again, okay?”

“I’d love that.” Peter nodded, leaning his head against Beck’s shoulder as the man began to stride away from the construction site, and he cocked his head curiously at this odd sensation in his spine.

There was something there—something. Painful.

Burning. Screaming, and angry. 

“Daddy…” Peter said weakly, and Beck cocked his head at him. “I… I feel something.”

** _A KE U_ **

Peter winced, clutching his head, and Beck’s expression immediately darkened, setting his boy down gently as he looked Peter over. 

“Peter? Tell me what’s going on.” He said urgently, and Peter shook his head, leaning against Beck’s side as he groaned softly. “_Peter!_”

“Daddy—Mr. Beck, I—” He stammered, gasping as he doubled over in pain, and Beck’s heart shot to his throat. 

“_No! _ That serum was past its clinical trial! It’s _ perfect! _It _should_ be working!”

* * *

Peter opened his eyes to find himself inside a thick fog of green. He choked slightly, desperately running through the darkness for something, _ anything— _

He couldn’t let Beck have his way with him.

He couldn’t let Beck win. 

He had to _ fight— _

He came to a stop when he slammed against a glass wall, and he looked up to realise that he was trapped in a snowglobe. His eyes widened as he looked up, and he grit his teeth. 

“Please!” He shouted, beating his fists against the glass. “Wake up, Spider-Man!”

* * *

“Wh-what?” Peter mumbled, slowly getting up, moving past Beck, and the man looked at him worriedly as he shakily strode back into the construction site. “I’m—I’m sensing something.”

“Peter, come back,” Beck said, grabbing his wrist, but Peter wormed his way out of Beck’s hold, slowly starting to break into a run. The man’s eyes widened, and he turned to the device on his wrist, hurriedly pulling up an illusion around Peter, plunging the both of them into a hall of mirrors. “Peter! Don’t run away from me!”

* * *

“C’mon, Peter Tingle, c’mon!” Peter screamed, punching at the glass with bleeding knuckles from torn Kevlar, and he lit up when the thick glass finally began to crack. “That’s it! Show me the way!”

* * *

“I…” Peter charged on forward, stumbling through the mirrors made of light, and Beck swore, hurrying after him as he ran onward. 

** _BR A K F R E_ **

“What…?” Peter murmured, hearing the echoing sound of his voice in his head, splintering glass and spreading mist of green seemingly rushing out with every breath he took as the tingle in his spine grew harder and harder to ignore as he moved on. For some reason, he felt it—he _ had _ to go here, it was important.

_ More important than Daddy? _ His voice whispered again, traitorous and vicious-sweet like honeyed dewdrops rolling off Beck’s glib tongue. _ Come back to Daddy, sweet Petey-Pie. He’ll protect you. _

“Daddy?” Peter turned on his heel, looking back at Beck as the man chased after him, and he smiled sweetly. “Daddy.”

** _R UN A W AY FR O M HI M!_ **

His smile slid off his face as his voice grew louder in his head, reverberating in an echoing glass chamber, and his feet came to a stop as he reached out for Beck.

“Daddy, I—”

“Peter!” Beck grabbed his wrist, eyes wild with fear and worry. “Peter, what’re you doing?”

* * *

“_Come on!_” Peter growled, and looked up above him. He fired webs at the ceiling, shooting up to the top of the dome, and dropped down, swinging at the crack in the wall with his feet. He slammed against the cracks in the glass, and the crack grew larger, his grin widening as he jumped back up to the opposite side of the dome, before shooting towards the crack with one last definitive slam of his feet into the glass, shattering it completely as he shot into the bright light of clarity, desperately reaching out into the world as the tendrils of Beck’s influence over him shot out from the glass to pull him back in.

“Get out of there!” He screamed as the green mist dragged him back. 

* * *

** _WAKE UP!_ **

His spine screamed like nothing else he’d ever known, and Peter jolted to awareness. Eyes wide, he snatched his hand back away from Beck as the man gaped at him in horror. 

“Peter?”

“Fuck off, Beck.” Peter spat at him—

And turned to see a train come slam right into him.

* * *

Beck stood there, shock turning his blood to ice in his veins as he watched Peter’s blood splatter against the rails of the train track as it rushed past him, his eyes wide as his breath completely stopped, catching in his throat in horror. Stupefied, he watched the train go by, as if hoping he’d see his boy’s crumpled body left behind on the train track, but when the train passed without leaving Peter behind, he dropped to his knees, hand shaking as his team came running out to him, worry on their faces.

“Quentin!” William shouted, and he could barely feel Victoria’s hands on his shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly. “Jesus Christ, we thought we’d lost you!” 

Beck continued to numbly stare at the train track, and Victoria looked over at it. “What happened?” She asked. “Did he… did Spider-Man just run into the train track?”

The team fell quiet, out of an awkward sense of respect as they thought of the teen who likely killed himself in desperation to get away from Beck, when the man suddenly let out a hysterical laugh. All of them jerked away from him as he shakily got up onto his feet, pointing at the tunnel where the train went into, his hands shaky, his limbs jerky as he straightened up. 

“You think that’s the end of it, Peter?” He howled into the darkness, eyes wide as he dissolved in maniacal laughter. “Do you think you can get away from me? Me, who has eyes on the whole world? Fine! I’ll play your little _ game!_” He spat. “You can’t get away from me, Peter!”

“Quentin—” William began, but the man brushed him off, stalking away from the train track with a murderous grin on his face. “_Quentin!_” the man called after him, and Beck came to a stop a little ways away from them.

“Have the boys extract more pheromone from Mary.” He ordered without turning to look at them, “Make the final dosage even more potent. Saturate the solution.” 

“But that kid—there’s no way—”

“He’s a fucking _ Avenger, _ William.” Beck snapped, turning to look at his employee, and they all gaped at the manic, wild expression on Beck’s face, the predatory grin that made him look more demon-like than a man. “Do you think a _ train _ is gonna kill him?”

“N-no. I-I’m sure it won’t.” He lied, and shared nervous looks with the rest of the team.

“It won’t.” Beck growled, and turned back away from him, striding away confidently towards his personal car, where no one else could hear him. “EDITH?”

“_Yes, Quentin?_”

“Run a level 5 search protocol on everywhere that train’s going.” He said, “Find me my puppy, honey.” 

“_Right away._”

“And pull up information on Peter’s school trip.” He added, leering as he started up the ignition of his car. “Let’s make sure his dear little _ friends _ take an _ unfortunate _ little detour to London.”

**Author's Note:**

> "who's mary" you ask, well, you might wanna [read this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16694380).
>
>> fellow writers, does it piss you off when people just comment stuff asking for a next chapter/fic without saying anything else constructive about the fic? genuinely curious.
>> 
>> — 🔮 bukkun, MSc 🕷 mr beck love mail 🔮 (@trickscd) [11 July 2019](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/1149322058376962049?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> [beck voice] never ask me for anything ever again.


End file.
